Allegro Assai
by Shizu-ruu
Summary: Shizuo and Izaya have always been in this destructive relationship of theirs. And they can never run away, they cannot stop for they are addicted. / M for implications, character death, violence, abuse [Shizaya] oneshot


**A/N: This is one of our collaborations with Bassu. It's really confusing, not gonna lie, but yeah... So basically it's about the abusive relationship between Shizuo and Izaya. Shizaya this time. But we really really like it so if you can get through all the confusion and stuff... Yeah.  
**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Durarara! and/or any of its character's. I do not own the poem 'For The Year of The Insane' - it belongs to Anne Sexton.**

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**[Allegro assai]**

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_**I. mezzoforte**_

It consumed them; quietly with the fake innocence of a child - passion, **desire**, goblet full of carmine liquid which streamed down their skin with the melody of _silent __broken laughter_ as the prelude. Evil kiss and _sweet_ poison, an embrace without comfort. Feigned love - nothing but common, crude **lust**. People learn to hate the pain and love their partners but _**monsters**_ like them savored the pain, cradled it to their chest and accepted it as a part of their existence all the while being feeling nothing but disgust and hatred (sweetened by a hint of fascination) to each other. While being one of a kind phenomenon, left with their loneliness, never ready to stretch out a hand - an offering of peace.

_Pride, bringing us to our knees, gasps of pain being used just like prayers._

_**- Holy Mary, mother of God,**_

_**pray for us sinners, now, and in**_

_**the hour of our death.**_

_**Amen.**_

Because love was just a term used to describe obsession - the core of all destruction. And hatred itself was way more romantic than the pathetically overrated feeling used in pornographic novels.

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_**II. forte**_

_I could have loved you._

_We could have had it all. And we chose mere sex._

_**Lovemaking **_- something reserved strictly for lovers, because what they performed was **impulsive**, **twisted** and _**wrong**_ in every way. Violence and ruthlessness. Fight for dominance, without a winner with losers only, because that's the way it should be and yes, they indeed deserved it. Blood. Face hidden behind hands and bitter tears, desperately pleading for love. Emotion, that didn't exist in their vocabulary.

_Only the guilt in their stomachs, coldly clenching around their viscera changed into vomited gastric acids and aversion to the other one in the morning._

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_**III. fortissimo**_

Shot of alcohol is always being drunk alone, glass, that is supposed to hold the denied answers. They count the nights spent with animalistic moves of naked bodies, not a coordination but just another form of fighting after which the younger man stumbles out of a random alleyway covered by freshly forming _reddish _and _purplish _bruises and red crescents, runs all the way to his apartment where he locks himself in the bathroom and lets all the liquids flow freely in the steaming shower - inhumanly cold tears, **repulsive sperm** and lots and lots of _**blood**_.

And still he returns every day with his even more flaccid and less believable smirk and awaits the moment, when his façade breaks and he will remain alone, with masochistic excitement. Because the pain... the pain made him feel alive.

Uncertainty and the fear of emptiness, nothingness and death. Only during those times when Shizuo was crushing him in his hands, shaped him, when Izaya drew ornaments on Shizuo's body with his knife and played with his mind, during those perfectly repelling times he felt truly alive.

_And he belonged to him. Needed him._

The older one would spend his days trying to wash away the blood on his bed sheets, cursing himself and the person that made him realize just how realistically monstrous he is. But at the same time he hoped that those bruises, proof that he had been here, will never fade.

_The hauntingly authentic scream pierced the stale air in the apartment and somewhere in the background you could catch the sound of bones breaking along with quiet whimpers and sobs, ode to the night, a piece of art, but not for the raven-haired man who lay on the mattress in agony, eyes wide open with fear. And at the same time - pleasure. He was alive. Welcoming and accepting the unbearable pain, ignoring the fact that all the bones in his right arm were currently being crushed._

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_**IV. piano**_

Everything was blurry, the color of his skin, walls, clothes. Why? He could hear someone panic from a distance and he smiled which soon turned into loud laughter with a certain part of insanity in his eyes, until he started to choke on a red liquid, trying to make its way through his trachea all the way up. He closed his eyes - one of his last mistakes. He disappeared.

Confused shouts when Shizuo realized that this is wrong, this shouldn't be happening. Futile promises and faking of nonexistent feelings.

White scars on his neck, **dark bags** under his eyes, tears - because he can feel the end is near and the only thing he can think of is; what would happen if he didn't mess with monsters.

_'B-but! Not now! I can't! Not now! I don't want to-'_

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_**V. pianissimo**_

_With the first rays of sunshine, two cooled bodies lay exposed to a beautiful spring day._

_Black hair falling in eyes mirroring the final terror. And thousands of **t**i**n**y **d**r**o**p**l**e**t**s of the same color as those eyes are spread all over both of them._

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_"I have this fear of coughing_

_but I do not speak,_

_a fear of rain, a fear of the horseman_

_who comes riding into my mouth._

_The glass tilts in on its own_

_and I amon fire._

_I see two thin streaks burn down my chin._

_I see myself as one would see another._

_I have been cut int two."_

- _For The Year Of The Insane_ -**Anne Sexton**

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_.fin._

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**A/N: This is it. So for those of you who didn't understand: Shizuo and Izaya have an abusive relationship and they can't stop it although it hurts them both. After one particularly bad night, Izaya ends up dead and Shizuo... well he dies too but it's up to you to get your own theory about what happened.**


End file.
